


Beyond paint, beyond melodies

by jonasnightingale



Series: Heavy Accents & Swollen Ankles [9]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Found Family, Gen, Rollisi, Uncle Sonny, no beta we die like men, otp: I just want her to be happy, otp: not just tonight, otp: sure you won't get a sandwich with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:47:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27988692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonasnightingale/pseuds/jonasnightingale
Summary: He's got a handprint on every element of their lives, he's there cheering in the crowds of parents, he brings the medicine when they're sick, maybe it's only natural that Jesse thinks he's her Dad.In which Amanda has to have an awkward conversation and confront some uncomfortable truths.
Relationships: Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr. & Amanda Rollins, Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr./Amanda Rollins
Series: Heavy Accents & Swollen Ankles [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595524
Comments: 20
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a long one-shot but it's taking me so long to finish I thought I'd pop it up in pieces.
> 
> In response to a tumblr prompt which I am not going to post until the end because it gives away later chapters.

She thinks maybe she should have seen this coming. Should have known something was up from the hint of amusement in Danica’s eyes when Spaghetti night was mentioned, or the tinge of awkwardness to Sienna’s smile when she’d greeted her. But this? 

She’s a whirlwind of emotions - devastated, awed, heartbroken, confused. The card open in her hands has sent her into a spin and she can’t see a clear path forward. 

Honestly fathers day was not even on her radar, not that it was typically a big part of her life but she’d usually hear about Fin’s plans, set up a coffee date with Al. Neither they nor Declan were the cause of this current angst though. No, it was the “I love my Daddy because he makes the best spaghetti” that was causing her mind to short-circuit, it was the four little yellow-haired stick figures on the page, the “SONNY” scrawled in purple crayon in the top right corner. 

He had always been a steady part of their lives, an important pillar in their world, maybe it shouldn’t come as such a shock. There had even been times where she had wondered…. well, what if? She had considered what a life might be like where her girls grew up chattering in Italian, where they knew the chaos and comfort of large loud extended families, where they could cook her under the table. And she had thought, during Bucci’s abduction, that if she didn’t make it home maybe he’d raise the girls in her absence.

But daydreaming about it and actually holding a physical fathers day card from your child to your colleague are very different things. 

Her eyes flick to the fridge and she realises how exactly everywhere he is. There’s him smiling at Billie’s birth, there’s his ‘live, laugh, lasagne’ apron hanging from the pantry door, she knows he’s in the picture with Jesse from the zoo thats in the girls room, and in one of the squad hung in the lounge… there’s traces of him all through the house. Amanda had never known what it was to have these kinds of paternal reminders scattered through a childhood; for her the mementos were the freshly patched holes in the walls, the empty bottles beside the bin, the purpling traces of bruises along her mothers arm. But looking at it objectively with the wisdom of hindsight she can see how Jesse must have interpreted it all.

How was she supposed to tell Jesse? How was she supposed to tell _Sonny_? She groans and sinks her face into her hands.


	2. Chapter 2

She had thought she was in the clear, but as usual life seems to have other plans. His expression is so earnest, so concerned when he asks “Is Jess okay?”, she diverts her gaze to focus on the sash of her coat as she responds with a vague “Yeah, yeah. Just gotta talk to one of the teachers about a project.” She’d been slipping into her coat when he had walked into the squad and if Fin noticed the way she’d suddenly knocked her (thankfully empty) coffee cup to the ground, he only threw a raised eyebrow. 

There is a warmth to her cheeks that she hopes is not as obvious as it feels. The fathers day card is burning a hole in her bag and she clutches it tightly to her. It’s impossible to look at him now and not think, ‘My daughter wants you to be her father. My daughter _thinks you_ ** _are_** her father.’ And it’s not easy, to keep the imaginings at bay. He had been there for all the key moments; for finding out she was pregnant, for the contractions and the births, for every key milestone since. The list of single mums in her life is woefully short and she almost wishes she could talk to Liv about this. But she imagines the disapproval, the quirked brow, the constant scrutiny of every future interaction and she holds her tongue. 

There’s a furrow between Carisi’s brow as he watches her and in that moment she hates that he can read her so well. She forces a breath out, tries to relax her muscles, meets his eye with a steadiness she certainly does not feel. “I should go. But I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow I guess. Have a good night guys.” She smiles at him and he smiles back on instinct, the crease in his forehead still lingering as she hurries to the elevator.

————

It was some recompense that Miss Julie had been equally embarrassed and blind-sighted by the entire situation. It wasn’t just Amanda sitting in the tiny chair with pink cheeks and uncomfortable laughter, but both of them, flabbergasted and equal parts confused and concerned. “She talks about him often.” The way Miss Julie explains it Amanda can perfectly envision Jesse standing in front of the blackboard, proudly telling the class how her Daddy is a lawyer who puts bad men away. And there’s a new piece of work to haunt her mind at night now, the map of the world up front where the class mapped out their heritages, the little ‘Jesse Rollins’ stuck over Italy. 

She thinks about how she introduced him at orientation day as her partner, thinks about his cannolis at the bake sale and him sitting beside her for the choir performance day, thinks about them swinging past together after work for school pickup, about the photos of them at the zoo that were included in Jesse’s holiday homework - of course the teachers didn’t notice anything amiss. Of course they assumed. Hell Amanda sometimes managed to trick herself into thinking there was more there, why would the faculty ever question it. 

Miss Julie points across the room to the wall of scribbles entitled “my family”. They’re all hard to distinguish from each other but when Amanda’s eyes snag on the ‘Jesse Rollins’ printed across the top she feels a wave of emotion rise in her. There’s the same four little yellow-haired figures from the card, a long brown approximation of Franny, but there’s also a brown face poking out of a big black jacket which has got to be Fin, and a brunette form beside him holding a little boys hand, Liv and Noah, curly black hair to show Sienna. She reaches towards it on instinct, fingers tracing the careful colouring. 

Putting it into context of family as a whole, she doesn’t feel so ungainly about the whole situation. If anything it is adorable and charming, a fun story for the 21st birthday. She knows he’ll still be there, beaming, making jokes. She knows he’ll be by their side.


	3. Chapter 3

She needs to tell him. Her fingers are clutched tight around the framed photo sat on his desk, heart in her throat as she tries to formulate the script. He needs to know. They’ve taken so much of his life she can’t bear the notion that they would keep such a big secret from him. She’s not scared he’ll run, not from the girls, not over this. But she is scared that saying it aloud will show too many cards. That he’ll see it in her eyes, that this wish is not only Jesse’s. She’s terrified he’ll see right through her, to the tightly guarded bundle of hope in her chest, that one day they’ll cross this borderline they’ve dallied at so long. She’ll lean forward instead of away, he’ll say yes to a drink or three. 

The buzz of her phone pulls her from the reverie and her fingers tighten around the photo at the number on the screen. She slides quickly to answer, sinking into the nearby chair as Miss Julie’s voice asks “Do you have a minute to talk?”, as she describes the series of events uncovered, the steps that had led them to this awkward moment in time. Amanda’s eyes slip closed against the pain as she’s told about the school yard bullies, the taunts Jesse had kept secret about having only one Mummy. It all makes sense, all slips into context. The questions about Mommy’s and Daddy’s living apart, the pleading for Carisi to pick her up from school. Rollins scrubs a rough hand across her face, heaves a deep sigh, feels her heart shatter in her chest. 

Thats how he finds her minutes later, slumped in the corner of his office, lost in thought. “Amanda?” She snaps up quickly, watery gaze flicking to his and skittering away. She stands, huffs out a small laugh and quiet apology. His attention is heavy as she moves towards him, carefully placing the photo back on his desk and brushing her hair aside. “Hey…” His hand sweeps towards her elbow, seeks to offer comfort from whatever storm is painting her face with such torment, but she steps back, gestures towards the door and offers, “I should, uh, I should go.” Carisi is still stood beside the desk, briefcase in one hand, confused. He calls out to her as she takes another step away. “Rollins. Everything okay? You’ve been sort of…Are we good?” 

It instantly flashes her back to the last time he asked that, the white hot betrayal that had been coursing through her veins. It’s less flippant this time, laced heavier with concern. “Yeah.” She makes a gesture with her head that is both a nod and a head shake. “We’re….” She trails off halfway through the thought, eyes flicking to his. She steps closer, “Can we… get a drink tonight?” His expression is unreadable, a mix of so many things she doesn’t know where to start deciphering it, so she continues before the rejection comes. “I need to… tell you about something. But it’s, uh, it’s not really office talk.” His instinctual step forward brings them closer, and this time she doesn’t shy away when his fingers find her arm, gripping her as he asks more urgently “But you’re okay? And the girls? Everyone’s okay?” The trill of her laugh breaks the tension of the room and his shoulders drop in relief. “Yeah, Carisi, we’re all fine. Weird week.” He nods, lets his fingers drop, “Six work?”


	4. Chapter 4

Her fingers pick at the label, shredding it in anxious fingers as the bottles pool with condensation. He’s fifteen minutes late and she still has no idea how to put words to the past week, how to tell this story with a brevity that conceals its angsty underbelly. 

She clocks him the minute he’s through the door. He looks tired. He always looks tired these days and the last thing she wants is to weigh him down more. She wants to run her fingers through his hair, pour him a stiff drink, and force him into a full night’s sleep in her arms. Instead she slides the beer across the table as he slips into the booth with an apology. He’s straight to the point once he’s settled in, coat discarded and arms braced on the table, “So what’s up?” There’s a note of unease to his voice, a hint at the whirlwind of scenarios that have been bombarding him the past four hours. He doesn’t know what to expect. 

She heaves a big sigh and his hand starts moving across the table of it’s own accord. “I don’t know how to say this.” His eyes are open, receptive, his voice gentle as he interjects, “It’s okay Rollins, whatever it is, you can tell me.” Their gaze locks and she thinks for one moment that if she wasn’t already smitten with the man before her, this would be the moment she fell.

“Jesse has been being teased, at school, about her family situation.” His brow moves into a deep crease and his lips part to speak but she forges on, “Me, about me. She has been bullied about having only a Mom.” There’s outrage on his features now and she half holds up a hand to halt his verbal response. “As you know, Jesse is a smart girl, and it seems she found a way to stop the teasing.” Amanda pauses, sizes up his expression and finds the courage to look in his eyes as she delivers the bomb, “She’s told everyone that you’re her Dad.” 

Silence. Utter silence sits between them, heavy. Her gaze doesn’t move from his face and she watches as his expression cycles between fury, shell-shock, confusion, and something much softer, something that makes her heart squeeze. Finally he pushes out just one word, loaded with disbelief and bewilderment; “What?” 

She reaches into her bag and extracts the card, passing it to the frozen man across from her. He takes it with such care, holds it far above the sticky surface of the table, his hands are gentle on the paper, fingers tracing the drawings with love as his face unconsciously morphs into a smile. The ‘happy fathers day’ on the front is neatly coloured in with varying shades of green - his favourite colour. And the laugh that bubbles from him at reading the inscription inside is damp, closer to a sob than she’s heard before. But his eyes are bright, his cheeks high from the grin. 

That drops the moment he looks back at her. The nerves are radiating off Amanda in waves. The label on her beer is decimated in a soggy crumpled mess before her, fingers twisting around themselves as her eyes dart over his face. It sets a deep ache deep within him, a familiar need to protect her. He wants to reach for her, to wrap his arms tight around her and shed this weight of the world that seems to always sit so firmly on their shoulders. 

“I’m going to talk to her, obviously, explain. But I thought you deserved to know. Maybe I need to be more conscious of how we structure playdates or more clear about our… maybe I need to… I honestly don’t know. If you want to, I don’t know, cook for us less or not take her to your Nonna’s or whatever you want, I understand but I also don’t want Jesse to feel like you’re abandoning her so if we can just be careful and…” His hand firm and warm around hers halts the string of panic. 

“Do you know what the best day of my life was?” The abrupt change of topic throws her and she just shakes her head silently. His gaze ducks and when it meets hers again there is a vulnerability there she had seldom seen before. “The day you asked me to be Jesse’s Godfather.” Her head swings to the side and this time it’s his hand raising to halt her interruption. “Hands down. Now don’t get me wrong, when you asked about Billie that was right up there too, but Jesse? All those years ago? I didn’t even know you liked me that much, I mean, we were friends but what with Nick and me still being the new guy and everything. Sometimes I thought you were just being polite. You asking me to be Jesse’s Godfather was the greatest honour of my life, Rollins.” She thinks she’s stopped breathing, theres tears pricking violently at her eyes and her chest is tight with something a lot more pleasant than the anxiety that had filled it all week. Her voice is uneven when she starts with “I… I don’t…” before trailing off and meeting his gaze with searching eyes. “I’m not going anywhere Amanda.”

She surprises herself with the sad, “You’ve said that before.” and his grip tightens around her fingers. There’s gravel in his voice but certainty in his expression when he replies, “Yeah, well, I’ve learned my lesson. Amanda, hey, look at me. You and the girls? You’re **so important** to me, I really hope you know that.” 

His hand around hers, his form leaning across the table into her space, all the right words on his tongue, she wonders what he’d do if she kissed him. She breaks the moment with a rough laugh, “Obviously we agree Sonny, I mean the girls love you so much they’ve declared you their father so…” His smile drops for a moment and she can see from the drift of his eyes an internal battle being waged. 

“Let them.”  
“What?”  
“Who does it hurt if Jess wants to drop the ‘God’ from God-Father? If it makes her happy, why don’t we just… go along with it.”  
“You saying you wanna be my baby-daddy Carisi?” She aims for a laugh but he just counters back with perfect sincerity,  
“I’m saying, it’s just a label Rollins. At the end of the day we’re family, doesn’t matter much what Jesse wants to call me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> “I love you beyond paint, beyond melodies, beyond words. And I hope you will always feel that, even when I'm not around to tell you so.” ~ Kiera Cass, The One


End file.
